


Teen Wolf Drabbles

by Stormlyht



Series: Teen Wolf Drabbles [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Major Spoilers for Season 3B, Mostly dark and angsty, SPOILERS ABOUND, Sexual Situations, So don't expect more from each of these chapters, Some funny, Will add tags when I add chapters, Wolf!Derek, dark!stiles, sofar, these are drabbles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-01-26 19:31:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1699934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormlyht/pseuds/Stormlyht
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is where I'm going to put all my bits and pieces that I write based on Tumblr prompts or simply because my mind goes there.  Each chapter is a stand alone section, please keep that in mind.  I'll try to put in the notes for each chapter the major issues with each part.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When The Lights are Out

**Author's Note:**

> This first Chapter is Scott/Stiles with mentions of Scott/Allison and hints at a possible future of Stiles/Derek. Kind of hurt/comfort, kind of pwp but not with a whole lot of porn. Mostly just an idea.

Scott does it because Stiles asks, and Stiles never asks for stuff like this. He never asks for comfort, just gets it when Scott realizes he needs it. There’s a fine line between brothers and more than friends that sometimes gets crossed, and this time is no different.

So what if Scott never saw Stiles in a romantic sense, when the lights are dark, he can pretend it’s Allison who’s got her lips wrapped around his dick, not Stiles. That’s fine, and Stiles says it’s okay, after, when Scott is worried about feelings and stuff. Scott isn’t certain that Stiles actually *is* okay, but he accepts the words because it’s Stiles, and he did this for Stiles, and for no other reason.

There’s never anything more than handjobs and blowjobs between them, always when the lights are out, always when no one can see. Stiles says he likes it that way, as if it isn’t them, as if it’s just two people with no attachments. He says it’s easier, and Scott believes him, because Scott has to believe him. If Scott never quite gets into giving blowjobs, that’s fine, Stiles seems to like giving them more than getting them, and Scott wonders if he just sucks that badly, no pun intended, or if Stiles really does just like giving.

Because it’s always when Stiles has been near death, or has been seriously screwed over in some way, or was frightened out of his mind that he needs these things from Scott. He’s desperate, and Scott is starting to see when Stiles needs it before Stiles asks, takes Stiles somewhere dark, pushes Stiles down on his knees so Stiles can get at what he wants. Scott doesn’t judge. This is *Stiles*, and he’d do anything for him. When Derek said Scott already had a pack, he wasn’t kidding, and Stiles was in it, always, forever, and Scott will do anything for him.

Sometimes, when Stiles is just starting to get twitchy, Scott is starting to notice Derek watching them. Scott thinks that Derek is trying to figure them out. It doesn’t bother Scott, Stiles is *his*, and he doesn’t think he needs to worry about fighting over Stiles. Except sometimes Stiles looks at Derek like he wants him, and Scott can smell it on him. He won’t prevent it from happening, but he won’t see Stiles hurt. So he will take Stiles’ arm and guide him off, dark bedroom, hand in hair, pushing Stiles deep on his cock just for that whimper that sounds so good.

If he’s seeing Allison in his mind less and less it’s fine. What he has with Stiles is simple, needful, nothing big and swept under the rug as soon as the lights go on. He’s here for Stiles. Because he always has been, and he always will be.


	2. Yearly Ritual

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott and Stiles get together every year so they don't forget the important stuff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major Spoilers for Season 3B here. Major Character Death (as in what happens in the show, not my doing). I originally intended this to be cheeky and fun and it turned really depressing and sad instead. Whoops.

“Scoot over,” Scott said, pushing Stiles to the side as he dropped the large scrapbook on Stiles’ legs. He settled down next to Stiles and set the large iced tea onto the coffee table.

“Dude, did you have to put it down on me?” Stiles asked, moving so the book was more comfortable and he laughed as he flipped it open, seeing two hand prints on the inside cover. “Were we ever actually that small?” Stiles put his hand over his print and tried to remember what it had been like to be so tiny.

“Yeah,” Scott laughed, putting his hand over his own print, fingers brushing Stiles. “We were.”

It was a yearly tradition, to look through their scrap book and add pages to the end. Their mother’s had done it when they were little, but when Stiles’ mom had passed, Scott had decided they would do it themselves. Stiles had been saving pictures and articles all year just for this event.

“It doesn’t feel like we could have been.” He smiled over at his best friend and nudged him with his fist. “Time’s starting to go a little fast.”

“Yeah.” Scott took his hand off of the page and flipped it. “There we are. Sharing toys.”

“I think I’m trying to beat you up with that barbie dude,” Stiles laughed. Same old argument, same old friendship. They’d never change, right? Stiles couldn’t imagine a life without Scott, without helping him, being helped by him, just being. A life with no Scott wasn’t something he wanted. Ever.

“How did we even get a barbie in the mix again?” Scott asked as he laughed.

“I think your mother was hoping for a girl,” Stiles winked, knowing full well it had been his own mother who had added the barbie to the mix. Scott squinted at him and he laughed full out, belly aching with it. It felt really good.

“I think that was your mother you’re talking about,” Scott replied.

The banter kept going, the memories washing over them both like warm water, soaking deep and relaxing them in a way they hadn’t been relaxed since this same time last year. When they got to the making pages part Scott was amazed by all the photo’s Stiles had, and Stiles was amazed by all the random pieces of paper that Scott had.

It was like every year. After everything that had happened, they needed this. Needed to know that they would still be them.

“Are you sure about this?” Stiles asked Scott, hesitating as his fingers swept the edges of the last picture of the year.

“Yeah,” Scott said as his voice choked. “I think… if it’s okay with you?” Then he looked up at Stiles with a bit of worry. “I don’t want this to be depressing.”

“Naw,” Stiles smiled at Scott, the first heartfelt smile since he had stopped being possessed. “I think it’s awesome. I think…. I think it’s perfect.”

He put in the holes and carefully tied the last page into their book. Allison’s face smiled at him, dimples deep, flowers around her head, a few in her hair. She looked like she had not a care in the world, and at the time, maybe she hadn’t. Above her picture Scott had printed very neatly, “Gone Forever, Never Forgotten”. Under it was: “Allison Argent, my first love” followed with her birth date and death date.

Stiles felt the tug in his chest, felt the need to do something more, but he knew he couldn’t. He had loved her too, not the same way Scott had, but just as fiercely. She had laughed, had brightened their lives, and when she was wrong, she apologized. No one could have asked for more.

“I’ll miss her,” Stiles whispered.

“We all will,” Scott said, slipping an arm around Stiles and pulling him close.

“We won’t ever forget.”

“Never.”


	3. Fully Protected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A random wolf comes to Beacon Hills and Stiles deals with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by [this](http://vitce.tumblr.com/post/78849597470) beautiful picture! Absolutely gorgeous, and this bit just flew out. Warning for darker Stiles, blood, death.

The werewolf scrambled back as he stared at the glowing red eyes coming towards him from the shadows of the woods. He held up his arms and babbled nonsense for several minutes until the face surrounding the eyes became clear. It was a wolf, huge jaws open in a soft growl, saliva dripping from teeth as long as the werewolf’s hands. Fur so dark it looked like the absolute absence of light surrounded the eyes and teeth and the werewolf groveled before the wolf.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think the woods were occupied. I was seeking sanctuary, please, I’m being chased by Hunters!” he cried out, face bending to the ground, forehead touching dry leaves.

“You probably were,” an amused voice said and the werewolf looked up again. Now he could see a boy, no older than seventeen, riding the huge wolf like the wolf was his own personal mount. “The Hunters around here are relentless, chasing their prey all through the woods, sometimes for days, sometimes weeks, until they find who they’re looking for and take them down.”

“Please help me,” the werewolf gasped out. “I’ve done nothing wrong, and I heard there was a…” his eyes traveled to the wolf again, not sure what exactly was going on between the boy and the wolf. “A reasonable Alpha around,” he finished softly.

The wolf growled, snapping it’s teeth at the werewolf and the eyes glowed more fiercely. The boy laughed, reaching up to touch the necklace of feathers, beads and bones, each piece glowing faintly as he touched them. Now the werewolf could see that he was wearing a red hoodie with a black tshirt underneath, but the light from the necklace made it all glow a sickly red color.

“There is a reasonable Alpha around, but I’m afraid you’re not being honest with us, so I’m going to be less reasonable,” the boy said. The hand not stroking the necklace lightly pet the wolf’s head.

“You’re not an Alpha,” the werewolf snorted. “He’s the Alpha.” Now he nodded at the wolf.

“You know so little, don’t you,” the boy said. “I’m Stiles, by the way. You have three options. You can either leave and never come back again, or you can run around and probably die, or you can tell us the truth.”

The werewolf stared at them, eyes flickering between the two several times before a slow smile spread out on his lips. “You’re right of course,” he said. “I wasn’t telling the truth.” Quickly, he tossed a bag right into the face of the wolf and pulled out a gun, shooting it in the direction of the boy. The shot rang out loud and he smiled as he smelled blood in the air.

“If you were hired to come to *my* woods, to kill *me*, I would think the people hiring you would have been more cautious,” the boy said gently.

The werewolf wanted to laugh, but he couldn’t speak as pain blossomed around his throat and the dust from the bag poofed into existence in front of his face. Wolfsbane soaked into the wound and his hands scrambled at his throat, tearing into the flesh, trying to stop from inhaling even more of the deadly plant. He could hear the wolf growling, could feel his breath on his face even though the wolf wasn’t near.

“I’m sorry, I really am,” Stiles said, and the werewolf actually believed him. “But you don’t belong here, and we only take certain people into our pack.”

His heart was beating fast, so fast, and the wolfsbane was rushing through his body. There was no saving him, he didn’t even understand how it was moving so quickly through him. Falling back on the ground, he felt the pain leech to his arms, his chest, then to his heart. Blood choked him, he coughed and it splashed out of his mouth. He’d been warned to be careful, and he had thought he had been, but he hadn’t been warned that they were so well prepared.

“I wish you would tell me who sent you though. I’d really like to send them a thank you card. Could you tell me?” Stiles asked, and he felt a paw land on his leg, pressing down painfully.

“I…” he choked out. The he decided the bitch had it coming. “Argent.” It was the last word he ever said.

Stiles sighed and patted Derek’s head. “Let Chris take care of that.” With a soft huff, Derek turned and padded softly back into the woods, back to their home and pack.


End file.
